It was a day that would linger in my memory as one of the most terrifying I had ever experienced. The shadows of anxiety crept in early, creeping into my subconscious as I entered my Code class, a space that should have been familiar but felt fraught with uncertainty. My heart raced as I received my grade for the first project, and the dismal score was a bitter pill to swallow.

Then came the moment I dreaded most: the announcement of the final grades. My name, “Jeyeon,” loomed ominously at the very top of the list, stark against the sea of numbers that followed. A strange sensation washed over me, like icy fingers trailing down my spine, as I scanned the results. Each entry was a testament to my struggles; the scores reflected the weight of my fears.

My first project had earned a pitiful 2 points. The next one? Just 4. And then there was that disheartening 4.5, which I could hardly fathom. I had expected the grading to be out of 10, only to find out it was out of 20! The shock hit me like a physical blow, and my teacher, Alexandre Texier, quietly offered a few kind words. His calm reassurance gave me a brief moment to breathe amid the confusion.

As I stole a glance at the scores of my classmates, a wave of embarrassment washed over me. Figures like 410 and even over 900 stared back, their brightness a painful reminder of my failure. The emotional toll was overwhelming; it was a depth of despair I had never known before, as if the weight of my disappointment had struck me like a thunderclap, leaving me reeling.

When the class finally ended, tears brimmed in my eyes, threatening to spill over. It was then that I spotted my friends, Gaeun and Isaline, emerging from the bathroom, their faces alight with laughter. I leaned against Gaeun, seeking solace, and let the tears flow freely. To my dismay, they casually mentioned their own grades—normal scores that seemed to mock my turmoil, their indifference a sharp contrast to my turmoil.

As we talked, I couldn’t shake the sense of shock that enveloped me. I recalled sending my Loire project text, which had been criticized for its brevity. Just thinking about it made my stomach churn with humiliation. I felt waves of frustration wash over me, the weight of disillusionment casting a long shadow over my thoughts. It was a feeling I had never anticipated, lingering like a dark cloud in the back of my mind.